Part 3
Chapter 2

"CHARLEY, my boy," said Grandfather,
"do you remember who was the last occupant of
the chair?"

"It was Lieutenant-Governor Hutchinson,"
answered Charley. "Sir Francis Bernard,
the new governor, had given him the chair,
instead of putting it away in the garret of the
Province House. And when we took leave of
Hutchinson he was sitting by his fireside, and
thinking of the past adventures of the chair and
of what was to come."

"Very well," said Grandfather;
"and you recollect that this was in 1763,
or thereabouts, at the close of the old French
War. Now, that you may fully comprehend the
remaining adventures of the chair, I must make
some brief remarks on the situation and character
of the New England colonies at this period."

So Grandfather spoke of the earnest loyalty of
our fathers during the old French War, and after
the conquest of Canada had brought that war to a
triumphant close.

The people loved and reverenced the King of
England even more than if the ocean had not rolled
its waves between him and them; for, at the
distance of three thousand miles, they could not
discover his bad qualities and imperfections.
Their love was increased by the dangers which they
had encountered in order to heighten his glory and
extend his dominion. Through out the war the
American colonists had fought side by side with
the soldiers of Old England; and nearly thirty
thousand young men had laid down their lives for
the honor of King George. And the survivors loved
him the better because they had done and
suffered so much for his sake.

But there were some circumstances that caused
America to feel more independent of England than
at an earlier period. Canada and Acadia had now
become British provinces; and our fathers were no
longer afraid of the hands of French and Indians
who used to assault them in old times. For a
century and a half this had been the great terror
of New England. Now the old French soldier was
driven from the North forever. And even had it
been otherwise, the English colonies were growing
so populous and powerful that they might have felt
fully able to protect themselves without any help
from England.

There were thoughtful and sagacious men, who
began to doubt whether a great country like
America would always be content to remain under
the government of an island three thousand miles
away. This was the more doubtful, because the
English Parliament had long ago made laws which
were intended to he very beneficial to England at
the expense of America. By these laws the
colonists were forbidden to manufacture articles
for their own use, or to carry on trade with any
nation but the English.

"Now," continued Grandfather,
"if King George III. and his counsellors had
considered these things wisely, they would have
taken another course than they did. But when they
saw how rich and populous the colonies had grown,
their first thought was how they might make more
profit out of them than heretofore. England was
enormously in debt at the close of the old French
War; and it was pretended that this debt
had been contracted for the defence of the
American colonies, and that, therefore, a part of it
ought to be paid by them."

"Why, this was nonsense!" exclaimed
Charley. "Did not our fathers spend their
lives, and their money too, to get Canada for King
George?"

"True, they did," said Grandfather;
"and they told the English rulers so. But
the king and his ministers would not listen to
good advice. In 1765 the British Parliament
passed a Stamp Act."

"What was that?" inquired Charley.

"The Stamp Act," replied Grandfather,
"was a law by which all deeds, bonds, and
other papers of the same kind were ordered to be
marked with the king's stamp; and without this
mark they were declared illegal and void. Now,
in order to get a blank sheet of paper with the
king's stamp upon it, people were obliged to pay
threepence more than the actual value of the
paper. And this extra sum of threepence was a
tax, and was to be paid into the king's
treasury."

"It was not for threepence, nor for any
amount of money, that America quarrelled with
England," replied Grandfather; "it was
for a great principle. The colonists were
determined not to be taxed except by their own
representatives. They said that neither the king
and Parliament, nor any other power on earth, had
a right to take their money out of their pockets
unless they freely gave it. And, rather than pay
threepence when it was unjustly demanded, they
resolved to sacrifice all the wealth of the country,
and their lives along with it. They therefore
made a most stubborn resistance to the Stamp
Act."

"That was noble!" exclaimed
Laurence. "I understand how it was. If
they had quietly paid the tax of threepence, they
would have ceased to be freemen, and would have
become tributaries of England. And so they
contended about a great question of right and
wrong, and put everything at stake for it."

"You are right, Laurence," said
Grandfather, "and it was really amazing and
terrible to see what a change came over the aspect
of the people the moment the English Parliament
had passed this oppressive act. The former
history of our chair, my children, has given you
some idea of what a harsh, unyielding, stern set
of men the old Puritans were. For a good many
years back, however, it had seemed as if these
characteristics were disappearing. But no
sooner did England offer wrong to the colonies
than the descendants of the early settlers proved
that they had the same kind of temper as their
forefathers. The moment before, New England
appeared like a humble and loyal subject of the
crown; the next instant, she showed the grim, dark
features of an old king-resisting Puritan."

Grandfather spoke briefly of the public
measures that were taken in opposition to the
Stamp Act. As this law affected all the American
colonies alike, it naturally led them to think of
consulting together in order to procure its
repeal. For this purpose the Legislature of
Massachusetts proposed that delegates from every
colony should meet in Congress. Accordingly nine
colonies, both Northern and Southern, sent
delegates to the city of New York.

"And did they consult about going to war
with England?" asked Charley.

"No, Charley," answered Grandfather;
"a great deal of talking was yet to be done
before England and America could come to
blows. The Congress stated the rights and
grievances of the colonists. They sent a humble
petition to the king, and a memorial to the
Parliament, beseeching that the Stamp Act might be
repealed. This was all that the delegates had it
in their power to do."

"They might as well have stayed at home,
then," said Charley.

"By no means," replied Grandfather.
"It was a most important and memorable event,
this first coming together of the American
people by their representatives from the North
and South. If England had been wise, she would
have trembled at the first word that was spoken in
such an assembly."

These remonstrances and petitions, as
Grandfather observed, were the work of grave,
thoughtful, and prudent men. Meantime the young
and hot-headed peopie went to work in their own
way. It is probable that the petitions of
Congress would have had little or no effect on the
British statesmen if the violent deeds of the
American people had not shown how much excited
the people were.
LIBERTY TREE was soon heard of
in England.

"What was Liberty Tree?" inquired
Clara.

"It was an old elm-tree," answered
Grandfather, "which stood near the corner of
Essex Street, opposite the Boylston Market.
Under the spreading branches of this great tree
the people used to assemble whenever they wished
to express their feelings and opinions. Thus,
after a while, it seemed as if the liberty of
the country was connected with Liberty Tree."

"It was glorious fruit for a tree to
bear," remarked Laurence.

"It bore strange fruit, sometimes,"
said Grandfather. "One morning in August,
1765, two figures were found hanging on the sturdy
branches of Liberty Tree. They were dressed in
square-skirted coats and small-clothes; and, as
their wigs hung down over their faces, they looked
like real men. One was intended to represent the
Earl of Bute, who was supposed to have advised the
king to tax America. The other was meant for the
effigy of Andrew Oliver, a gentleman belonging to
one of the most respectable families in
Massachusetts."

"What harm had he done?"inquired
Charley.

"The king had appointed him to be
distributor of the stamps," answered
Grandfather. "Mr. Oliver would have made a
great deal of money by this business. But the
people frightened him so much by hanging him in
effigy, and afterwards by breaking into his house,
that he promised to have nothiug to do with the
stamps. And all the king's friends throughout
America were compelled to make the same promise."